The Waif of the North
by thewhisperingwillowtree
Summary: The Waif was not always No One. Once she had been a daughter, had a husband and son. She watched men war and good men die and the bad kept living. Filling the world with their poison and evil deeds. Then she had no power, but now she is a master of death and no one could defeat death.
1. Girl of Fear and Pain

I first decided to write this because I was tired of reading about characters that were perfect, that always had the best morals and were so beautiful men just automatically fell in love with them. Something about the fanfictions from Robb's time always drew me, and I knew I wanted my character to have gone through a drastic change. So I planned and thought things through and came up with this. I'll take both positive and negative criticism. Without it, it's hard to grow as a writer. I hope you enjoy~

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 **Chapter 1**

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A gossamer veil of crème white covered her face. Her cheeks had been pinched a more pleasing dusky pink and lips dabbed with red berries. She could smell the putrid stench that whiffed off her father, musky and stale, reeking slightly of onions and things long past their expiration. As he limped next to her, a lecherous smirk rested on his lips.

Her father was happy, a rare thing in itself.

The only time he ever seemed joyful was when he sold off another daughter or got a new wife. It was the first time he had ever been happy with her, for sure. She bit down on her lip, scuffing her feet as she walked. Many of her sisters said being married was better. They were able to away from here, some even running their own homes as ladies of a small castle.

But many said it was just as bad, worse even. Sometimes what a man did to you at night was unspeakable.

Shirei clenched her hand together tighter, pulling her eyes from the floor to her intended. He was handsome, no one could deny that. Her brother, Black Walder, had laughed when it was announced she would marry the boy-king Robb Stark. He said Robb Stark was prettier than her, with pretty locks and an even prettier face.

He didn't look like a boy-king, he looked a man grown. A seasoned warrior. His expression bore impatience. With her, with the situation. Probably everything, which did not bode well. He had curls the color of autumn and eyes like the river that their bridge covered. They were just as punishing too, willing to tear and break and _kill_.

She clenched her jaw, hoping to stop the trembling. She knew it was useless, but she could think of nothing else to stop her from crying. Concentrating on that at least stopped the flow of tears. It was the first time Shirei had met her intended, and her brothers had spent the day telling her of the ravenous wolf of the north that was like a ghost. They told her of his direwolf that ripped off the limbs of his enemies. How he never lost a battle. Her mind had created a monster with their words, and she could see nothing but that.

The septon spoke his words. Her veil was lifted. Her father sat; and through it all she could do nothing but stare at the cracks in the ground. Eyes following every crevice between the stones. She could feel his gaze on her, but she didn't dare look up. Not as their wrists were laced together, nor as they spoke the sacred words binding them together. Not even when he took her arm and they all walked out of the hall to the feast. His arm was around hers and all she could think about is how well muscled it was. What he would do to her with them. None of her brothers were that strong but they still hurt her. She knew it now. She would not survive Robb Stark, and she finally she gave into her tears.

"My Lady?"

It was her husband, sounding hesitant and unsure for the first time instead of his constant brooding. She turned to him and at that moment she didn't see a killer.

He looked like a boy.

King Robb grimaced, brows furrowed together as he watched the tears slide down her face. "I know neither of us wished this, but we must make the best of it. We're husband and wife now."

He watched her, slivers of hope gleaning from his eyes. She swallowed, gathering herself and managing to stop the tears. She pulled her eyes away from his, just in time to catch her brother Hosteen laughing at her. He always called her weak, but enjoyed seeing her pain. She turned away as soon as he noticed her attention on him, lest he think she was being insolent and decide a good smack would do her good.

"What is your name? I'm afraid I was never told it," he admitted, sheepish.

Shirei took a deep breath in. It was more likely her father didn't know it so never told the King. Her father always forget her name. There were so many of them, after all. "Shi-Shirei, My Lord," she stuttered, flinching when she realized her mistake. "Your Grace."

His lips made that thin line again as he took a swill of ale. "Call me Robb. We're married." He turned from her, watching the celebration in disgust as her brothers tugged on the kitchen wenches and groped their backsides; her father shouting for more wine and saying unspeakable things about his current wife Joyeuse, who was more child than woman. Robb leaned towards her. "You do know what happens on a wedding night?"

Shirei flinched, fingers clenching the fabric of her rough-spun dress. The first dress she had ever worn that was not a hand-me-down. It was the first thing that had truly been hers.

"I do, your Grace," she only said.

She knew very well what happened on a wedding night. Her good-sister Kyra's cries could be heard all through her own wedding night and through the next day. Until Shirei's brother and Kyra's husband, Garse, got tired of her whining and threw her into the pig pen.

"Robb," he corrected.

"Of course."

His fingers tapped on the fraying wooden tables. She strained to listen, recognizing it as 'The Winter Maid,' a popular Northern song. "You do know you are Queen?"

It was another useless title. Being a lady never saved her. Why would being queen? Besides, royalty was everywhere now. In the South there was the bastard Joffrey, in the east the pretender Renly. The west has the kraken Greyjoy and then there was King Stannis Baratheon. The only one who seemed to have a legitimate claim to the thrown. It was easy to become a King these days, and being queen didn't seem so important. It was the men who had power no matter who you were, and Shirei would never be a man.

"I do."

"Do you wish to do anything with that title?"

Shirei frowned, unsure what he was asking of her. She didn't know this man well, nor his games. If it was Black Walder she'd know he wished to grope her. If it was Hosteen he wanted her pain. Jared liked to torment her with words, to see her cry. Big Walder just liked to see how stupid she was by asking her questions he knew she'd never know. Her father liked to feel powerful, he liked her meekness even if he acted like it annoyed him. They all wanted something, she just had to give it and they'd let her be.

But she didn't know what Robb Stark wanted.

"I will do as you tell me," she said finally, hoping it was the right answer.

He frowned but did nothing to her, so perhaps she had answered well enough. He leaned back in his chair, giving up on any conversation with her which was good. She couldn't mess up that way.

The King's mother sat on his other side. She was a beautiful woman. Even at her age she was more beautiful that Shirei would ever be. Every so often she would look at Shirei, her expression indistinguishable. She hadn't touched any of the food or wine the entire night. As Sherei studied her their eyes met for the first time. The older woman stood abruptly, walking the few steps to Shirei.

"It would delight me if you took a walk with me, your Grace."

Shirei's eyes fell to her husband. She waited for his leave, but he paid no attention to either of them. Lost in his own thoughts. Lady Catelyn cleared her throat and Shirei panicked, eyes darting back and forth from her husband to her new good-mother. That expression slid across Catelyn's face again, and the woman took pity on her. "I'm not sure how you do it in the Twins, but with us you don't have to divert to your husband for every little thing."

Her words jolted Robb out of his thought and he looked between the two, a steadfast frown on his face. "You don't have to ask me to speak with my mother. You're free to see who you please."

Shirei's nose twitched. It must be some type of trick. It must be power Robb Stark liked, much like her father. To give it only to take it away and laugh as hope dimmed in her eyes. She stood, waiting for him to stop her, to laugh in her face and tell her to sit down.

But now he only looked worried.

Lady Catelyn took her arm, taking her away from the feast. Shirei was still waiting, shoulders slumped and body tensed, but he never did. It didn't make sense. She couldn't figure him out, and that worried her more than anything.

She relaxed as soon as the men were far from them, out of sight. The trembles stopped, and a minute smile grew upon her lips as she looked at her good-mother.

"Your Grace?" Catelyn murmured, watching the transformation. It was a jarring sight for her.

Shirei gave a quivering smile to Lady Catelyn. "Your son confuses me." Now that all the men away she could speak freely. "I don't know what he wants."

Catelyn's repeated her words silently, brows furrowed. "I'm afraid I do not understand you."

"Men always want something," Shirei said plainly. "I just can't figure it out. If you told me it would save me a lot of pain and suffering." She smiled winningly at Lady Catelyn, who looked as if she were even more confused than before.

"Robb wants an heir, I suppose."

"Of course," she said patiently. "All men want that. I'm talking about what he really wants. Does he like to manipulate? Hurt? What makes him happy?"

Catelyn flinched as if someone had slapped her. She was quiet, and that strange expression finally left her face and only pity remained. Shirei was used to that look, all women shared it.

"Your upbringing?" Catelyn said finally.

"Oh, yes," Shirei said, not understanding the question. "We did have a septa, if you're worried about that. We were taught how to run a household, although nothing as big as Winterfell. I'm sure I'll need your help at first."

Catelyn appeared to be choosing her words carefully. "Your family?"

Shirei frowned. "Yes?"

"They hurt you?"

Shirei bit her lip and began walking again, arm still linked with Lady Catelyn's. "Men always hurt."

Even when they love. When Shirei was fourteen she had fallen in love with a pig farmer's son. He had always been kind to her. He said he loved her, and she loved him back. But then she found out he said that to all the girls, and she wasn't the only one he told it to. Her brother's had found it hilarious that not only that she fell in love with a _pig_ _farmer's_ son but he had played her too. They had given him gold for it they liked it so much, and Shirei had learned from her mistake. Boys didn't love girls, at least not one's like her. They only wanted the dainty, pretty ones, and a Frey was anything but that. She didn't look much like her father, but her mother hadn't been a beauty either.

She had a sister, Morya, who fell in love with her husband. She always hurt. He told her that he loved her and then slept with other women, and Morya's love was so much that she couldn't harden herself to him. She just hurt.

There was no love in the world for a Frey. Shirei had learned this lesson very well.

Catelyn's arms wrapped around her shoulders. "I promise you it won't be like that anymore. No one will hurt you."

Shirei nearly laughed. "You cannot promise that, and King Robb will be doing most of the hurting. I'm his wife, there for him to do as he pleases. Will you step in the way of that?" She wouldn't. No woman would ask for more hurt than she is already given.

" _My son_ is not like that," she said vehemently, eyes beseeching. "We raised him well, taught him to honor women. To treat his wife with respect, as that will be the woman who bears his children."

Shirei did not know what to think of that. It sounded so strange, like a fairytale that the kitchen wenches sometimes told her.

"I see," she answered carefully. The world was different for Catelyn Stark, after all. She wasn't a Frey, and she was beautiful.

The woman had wanted to say more, Shirei could tell, but then one of her brothers grabbed her and pulled her away. "It's time for the bedding ceremony," Hosteen smirked, eying her.

It wasn't hard for her to switch to the mouse anymore. She had years of experience, and as soon as he touched her Shirei's shoulders had slumped, eyes falling to the floor and face morose. She was a doll, to be yanked and pulled on as they please. To be dragged behind and thrown in anger. It's all she would ever be.

She flinched when Hosteen pinched her, drawing blood. Her eyes watered and tears fell, what he had wanted in the first place. "Enjoy your husband. I hear he turns into a beast at night and it will be an animal you bed, not a man."

He laughed in her face, spittle dotting her cheeks as true fear filled her again. Her eyes searched the darkness, stumbling as he dragged her. Shirei's mind raced for something, anything, to stall him. All she had ever wanted was to live. If she wanted death she would have offed herself like one of her sister's had. She wanted to live.

Hosteen shoved her into the hall and the men cheered. Robb Stark stood at the front of the hall, noble and stern. His eyes hardened as they took her in, the tears and fear. How she trembled and twisted, searching for an out. Any way out of this hall and away from them, and he stepped down off the platform.

"That is enough."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to quiet the men in the room. The silence was only broken by a loud belch and a smattering of drunken laughter.

"What do you mean enough!" her father wheezed. "We've had a wedding, and all we need now is a bedding!" The men cheered, ale sloshing down their arms as they raised their glasses.

"I agreed to a wedding, not a bedding ceremony." The King in the North was at ease, arms locked behind him as he stared her father down. "I'll take her to our rooms."

Silence permeated the room, men on each side waiting for the other's response. Finally, her father answered.

"Very well. I will need those sheets though. I need to hang them from the towers. My daughter's cunt, broken in by a king!"

The men cheered and Robb eyed them all with distaste, walking over to Shirei and taking her arm. "My Queen, are you ready?"

He had misunderstood. It wasn't her brothers she wanted protection from. It was him. She understood her brothers, what each of them wanted from her. It was him she was afraid of.

Her eyes found Della. Despite Della being her niece they were close in age, only two years apart. Della was the one she confided her secrets and wishes to, all her silly wants that she knew would never happen, and Shirei's eyes shuttered.

Shirei was a dead girl walking, Queen of Skin and Bones. Her eyes were no longer for Della. Shirei belonged to the Wolf of the North. To tear and rip and rut. To bleed and torture. Della didn't need to look into the eyes of a dead woman. She was better than that, and she still had time to live.

Shirei's arms trembled, laced together with King Robb Stark's muscular ones. Would he strangle her to death? Punish her for going with her mother?

Or would he do what men seemed to love, rut into her into she was Shirei no more. Only a sack of skin and bones and blood?

She found she didn't care to know.

Robb sighed next to her, racing a hand through his curls. "I know it can be painful the first time, but you will be fine. You're only scaring yourself more, thinking about whatever it is your thinking."

"A bridge for a wife," Shirei whispered. "A wife for a bridge."

"Yes," he agreed, irritated. "A bridge for a wife. But that doesn't matter right now. We are husband and wife and you can't even look at me without falling apart. Shirei, I don't know what you've been told about me but I am not a monster."

He stopped, and she realized they were in front of their door and her time had run out. Shirei didn't have pride. She had given it up long ago for survival, so her tears did not shame her. She said nothing as he carefully nudged her into the room, nor as he closed the door and sat her on the bed. Her eyes remained on the floor. Tracing out shadows and searching for lines, waiting for her mind to take her to that place where things didn't hurt so much. The bed dipped next to her and he touched her hair, twisting it back and forth between nimble fingers. He traced it down to the bottom where he cupped his hands around hers.

"You are afraid," he said finally. "It makes sense. You don't know me. You only know _of_ me, and most of the things they say aren't true."

She remained silent, lips pressed together and eyes tracing. Never stopping.

"What have you been told about me?"

Shirei flinched. There was no way for her to answer this without getting hurt. She decided to tell the truth. Her silence and lies had done nothing for her. "My brother's said you turn into a wolf."

A smile graced his face. "I'm afraid not, I do have a direwolf."

"They say you're a ghost."

He shook his head. "I think you and I both know that to be untrue."

"They said," she trailed off, losing her voice. "They said nothing will be left of me once you've finished. That all of me will be on that blanket they hang from the towers."

Fury coursed through his eyes, she could feel him tense next to her, muscles bunching together and hard against her. She had angered him, and now she would pay for it.

As if he could read her thoughts he stopped, clenching his jaw and attempting to hide his irritation. "I'm not angry with you. I'm angry at them. You have nothing to fear from me."

That is what the guard Lothar told his wife every time he hurt her. Shirei would not fall for it.

Robb Starks hands cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes danced back and forth, unsure where she should look before settling on his nose. He couldn't call her insolent that way.

"You are Queen now. Do you know what that means?"

She cleared her throat. "That I am your wife."

"And?"

She hesitated. "I am your wife?" she repeated.

"It means you are the second most powerful person in the North." Shirei blinked, staring at him in confusion. His eyes held her steadily. "It means the only person that can tell you what to do is me. Your father will never hurt you. Your brothers will never hurt you. No one can hurt you, it would be treason."

"Except you," she said weakly.

He sighed, letting her go and rubbing his face. "Except me," he agreed. "But I won't."

"All men say that," she whispered. "You say it until you get what you want."

"And if all I want is my wife happy?"

She blinked. "You want more than that." If that was what he wanted, which was doubtable.

He stood, walking over to the corner of the room as he undid his shirt, filling a cup with wine and drinking heavily from it. "You are right, of course. I want my sister's back. I want less casualties in this bloody war. I want my little brother to be able to walk again, and for my father to live. But you can't help me get any of that, so I'll settle for you being happy."

"What would me being happy give you?"

He paused, looking over his shoulder to glance at her. "Not everyone has to want something from you."

"You lie."

He turned around, the shirt finally falling to the floor. She kept her eyes on his, not letting them look down. It would only frighten her more. Maybe that was what he wanted.

"I trust Della Brax more than anyone in the world, but we still want things from each other. I want her trust, and she wants mine. She is my niece and we are friends, but we still want things from each other."

"Wanting those things are normal," he pointed out. "But wanting to hurt others and these vengeful things... Shirei I honestly don't know how to keep up with you. You think more differently than anyone I've met before and the only thing I understand when I look at you is that you fear." His hand traced the pattern at her shoulder, eyes thoughtful as he reached back to undo the laces of her dress.

She could hear the frogs from here, drunken yelling from the soldiers outside the window. Far away wolves cried at the moon, and wind whistled through the cracks of her window. She was not here, she was elsewhere. Where she went to when people wanted to hurt her too much. She was the fish in the river, free and unhindered. The young doe grazing in the woods, staying with her flock. She was not Shirei Frey, but something else entirely.

"What is this?" He pulled her out of her thoughts, staring down at her bruised arm and the blood that dotted it. Hosteen's going away present. Many such things had decorated her body during her life. They always made sure the cuts wouldn't scar. Her body did not show her life stories, she only had her memories to rely on. "Who did this?"

He stood her up and the dress pooled around her feet onto the ground. Now she only remained in a thin underdress. She shivered, staring at the hurt that would disappear from her traitorous body. The body that would not show the pain in her.

"Who hurt you?" he demanded, that stoic expression on his face as he looked at the blemish.

She stared at the wall. That list would be endless. She could not even remember all the people that had hurt her.

"From now on if someone hurts you, you will tell me. Do you understand?"

There was steel in his voice and there was nothing to do but answer. So she bleated the word he wanted to hear most and he relaxed, whispering in her ear things she couldn't hear. That she refused to listen to. She stared at the ceiling as her underdress was taken off her, and as Robb's pants slid to the ground. She followed the cracks as he touched her body, pressing himself against her. She went to the special place where things hurt less, where she could ignore the feeling of something foreign ripping its way into her body.

But it wasn't working. It hurt too much, and the pain didn't stop. She whimpered into his shoulder, fists clenched together as she bore this new hurt that would disappear like all the others. He liked it, she could see that much despite her tears. He whispered something against her and she strained to hear.

"You are mine. You are mine, and no one will hurt you again."

It was spoken like a promise, something that wasn't meant to be broken, and Shirei wiped her tears.

She finally understood what he wanted from her.

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If you can't tell yet, I won't be perfectly following the original story lines. I picked Shirei as she is a Frey where there is not much known about her, so it seemed pointless to create a whole new OC character. I also pick and choose between the show and the books.

If anyone is interested in being a beta please contact me.


	2. Lady of Doubt and Worry

I plan to update every Saturday unless I get writers block or something happens which makes it impossible for me to do. Also, here's a disclaimer. All characters belong to GRRM.

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 **Chapter 2**

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Her whole life sat in an austere eight by four box. There was her wedding dress, the color of ivory with a stain of bone broth at the hem. A doll from her childhood. It had belonged to her sister Tyta before her, and before Tyta it was Perriane's. There was a small patch of cloth, yellowed and stiff with age, that had little birds in black thread on the edges. The only thing she had of her mother's.

Everything else was not hers to take. She shared her room with Arwen. They were nearly the same size and height, and all the clothes they owned together. When Lady Catelyn had seen Shirei's threadbare shoes and clothes, how few there were and that both her and Arwen shared them, she told Shirei to leave them. There was a seamstress that followed the army on the road and soon Shirei would be dressed in clothes more fitting her station, according to Lady Catelyn.

Her father had hung the bed sheets from the northern tower, her maidenhood bared for all to see. Lady Catelyn appeared to disprove but held her tongue, attempting to divert her attention to the horse she would be given for riding. It was a beautiful one, a pinto with caramel spots and chocolate coloring. The saddle smelled of fresh oiled leather, and it was an older mare. Sure to be less restless and easier to ride.

Not that Shirei's attention needed to be diverted from her father's antics. Her blood on sheets was not the worst thing to happen to her.

She had not seen Robb since the morning. When they had been all awkwardness and hurried to clothe themselves. He was a busy man, Lady Catelyn assured her. He had to organize his army and get them moving across the bridge. It did not bother her that she did not see him. She did not know him. Shirei was just happy everything her brother's had told her about the King in the North had been lies. She had survived their coupling, and he was no hairier than the average man to make her think him a wolf.

"Tell me about yourself," Lady Catelyn said as they walked along the river. "I wish to know more about you."

Shirei frowned. "There isn't much to tell, My Lady. I am nineteen. The daughter of Annara Farring, my father's seventh wife."

"Farring? I'm afraid it's not a name I am familiar with."

"It is not surprising, My Lady," she answered. "My mother was the daughter of a well-off merchant."

Lady Catelyn cleared her throat, changing the subject with pursed lips. "What is it you like to do?"

"Sew?" Shirei shrugged.

There wasn't much to do at The Twins. She mostly stayed with Della and her sister Arwen, although Arwen favored Roslin's company. They were often seen together, whispering to each other and giggling.

Lady Catelyn cleared her throat. "Anything else?"

"I like to walk along the river with Della. She can't hear the water but she likes to watch the fish jump."

"Hmm," Lady Catelyn said, nodding her head as a group of soldiers bowed respectfully as they passed. "I must ask. You always act so different in front of others, but last night when we were alone…" her voice faded off, hesitant.

Shirei leaned closer, whispering, "There were no men then."

"Men?"

Shirei pulled away. "Yes. I didn't have to do anything. No men were there."

"I," Lady Catelyn's voice faltered. "Why can't you be like that in front of men?"

"You know why," Shirei frowned. "The men… it is just easier to be that way in front of them."

"Well you can't be that way anymore."

Shirei pulled away, wrapping her arms around her waist protectively. "But what will I do then?" she whispered. When they want to hurt and squeeze and torment. It was better to be a limp doll than a stubborn mule.

Catelyn's shoulder's were set, eyes steely and hands clutched together loosely in front of her. "You are queen now. People will not respect you just because of that. If you act like a kitchen mouse they will treat you like one."

Her mind drifted to Robb, of when he told her the only one who could hurt her now is him. "King Robb… he will hold men to that?"

"Of course. You are his queen. His men need to respect you. But in order for them to do that you must first respect yourself."

"My brothers?"

"Cannot hurt you. They would be punished."

"I only have to listen to Robb?"

"Yes."

Shirei searched for any lie on her countenance. She had learned very well living at The Twins the signs of a lie. Lady Catelyn wasn't fidgeting. She didn't avoid Shirei's gaze or cover her mouth. There was only resolve on her, and honesty.

"I do have a question." For the first time Lady Catelyn avoided her. "There are certain… _rumors_ , about your birth. That Walder Frey really isn't-"

"Isn't my father," Shirei finished. "Yes, I've heard them too." All of her life. "I assure you Black Walder is not my father." It was her mother Black Walder had lusted for, and when her mother died his attention eventually drifted to her. Out of the six children her mother bore, Shirei looked the most like her. Shirei's hair was blonde unlike most the Frey's, and she did not share their weasel-like features.

Besides, the Freys weren't the Lannisters. If Black Walder had though she was his, he wouldn't have been groping at her. He never touched Arwen, who shared many of their mother's features also. It made Shirei wonder if perhaps Arwen _was_ his. Arwen had secretly shared that thought with her too.

"I am positive of this."

Lady Catelyn released a breath, at ease again. "I just had to ask."

"I understand."

The rest of the day she watched as the army passed over the bridge. It had been decided Della would be her Lady in Waiting, after Lady Catelyn asked if she had any preference of who it was. When she had been asked she didn't think they would actually listen. But here was Della, arms wrapped around a linen cloth bag holding anything that meant something to her.

Shirei was still expecting someone to change their mind. To send Della back and get some stranger, laugh in her face and ask how she expected that to ever work. They would send Della back later, when they thought Shirei had relaxed and wasn't expecting it.

Before getting married to Robb Stark, Shirei almost thought she would end up an old maid like Tyta. There were very few beautiful Freys. To be exact, two. Fair Walda and Roslin. Fair Walda was no longer a maid. It was the worst kept secret of The Twins. The only marriage their father could hope to broker for her was with the merchant class which he seemed to be in no rush to do. As for Roslin, her father was probably holding onto her as a bargaining chip. Not many people knew of her or her beauty.

Many of Shirei's older sisters had yet to marry, so Shirei had no expectations. There was Arwyn, Roslin and Tyta. Not to mention all her older cousins. Shirei thought she would live and die in this castle. She wasn't sure what it was that made her father choose her. He probably did it at random, the first name or face he could think of. Or maybe she had passed him as he was wondering who to choose.

For the first time in her life she had options. Sure, she was married and still owned by a man, but no one had dared to hurt her.

Shirei couldn't remember a day when someone didn't try to cause her pain. Here she even had her own guards. Two burly Umber men who remained silent and spoke to each other more through their eyes than anything. Just as Robb had promised they kept her safe even when he was not around. It was enough for her brothers and numerous cousins to keep their distance. If it was only Robb Stark that would be doing the hurting she thought she could deal with that. Hopefully, she would become pregnant soon so that he would no longer have to visit her at night. She ached in places she didn't even think possible. It wasn't an unbearable pain, but when asked whether she wanted a horse or the carriage it was not hard to choose.

Shirei kicked her feet against the back of the wooden steps of the carriage to get all the dirt off her shoes, taking a last glance at The Twins as Della shut the door behind her.

She would not miss it.

They sat in there all day. Lady Catelyn had elected to ride a horse and was probably near her son.

"Lady Catelyn told me to speak louder. To make my opinions heard," she told Della.

Della fidgeted with a loose string on her sleeve. "But won't you get hurt?"

Shirei stared out the window. She couldn't really see any scenery. Just uniforms of grey and the various shades of browns, blacks, and white of horse coats. It was something to look at besides the wooden box surrounding them. "They say no one will hurt me besides King Robb."

Della's nose scrunched, laughter touching her lips. "Do you believe them?"

"I want to." It would be difficult to take everything back now. Her two guards were near her at all times. They hadn't forced her out of the carriage and onto a horse when she said she wanted to ride it. No one had ever invested so much time to trick her, and Lady Catelyn had promised it was all true. Why would a woman lie about that kind of thing? "I'm going to believe them until they show otherwise," she decided. "I won't be too sad when they take it away." She had learned long ago not to get attached to many things. People always found it amusing to take her things away.

When she was a child it was how she lost all her dolls. The only one she had now was the one in her box, which she made sure to never take out of her room after the first three were ruined. The first was lost to dogs by Waltyr, the second thrown in the fireplace by Elmar in a fit of rage, and the third ripped to shreds by Hosteen. Just because. She once had gotten a silver bracelet for a nameday present from her mother's side of the family. When her brother Colmar had noticed he took it away and sold it for extra pocket change. It was impossible to have anything nice at The Twins.

Shirei's hands ran down the velvet of her dress. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever worn, even prettier than her wedding dress. Lady Catelyn had leant it to her while the seamstress worked on her new attire. It was light grey in color with dark grey embellishments on the sleeves and collar. It was sewn by Lady Sansa, a proper dress for the newest Stark by marriage.

She didn't think Lady Catelyn would take the dress away, not until Shirei didn't need it anymore. Women always banned together. If they didn't they would never make it. Maybe Robb would strip her of the dress once he saw her in it. It was too beautiful for the likes of her.

"Did you notice when we passed Dickon he didn't mock me for once." Dickon was their cousin. He liked to tease Della for her slurred words, but Della couldn't help it. She was deaf. She had never heard what words even sounded like, so Shirei found it a miracle she could speak at all.

"The guards seem to be good at keeping them away."

Della nodded in agreement. "Try not to make King Robb angry. I like the guards nearby, and if the King takes them away it will be even worse than before. They would want to make up for lost time."

Shirei would try very hard not to. Now that she knew what her husband wanted of her she thought she could manage it.

Two swift knocks interrupted them. Shirei raised a hand, motioning Della to silence. It was her signal to Della when they could no longer speak freely as Della couldn't hear doors opening or footsteps.

"Your Grace?"

It was one of the Umber men, keeping pace with the wheelbarrow house on horse.

"… yes, My Lord?"

"Not no Lord," he rumbled. "Only wanted to know if ya needed to get out an' stretch?"

Shirei clutched her wooden box in her arms, rubbing her fingers against the wood. "No?"

She had never been asked about her comfort before. She didn't know what to say. "Very well, your Grace. If you do just holler fer me. We will pull to the side."

His cobalt horse disappeared from the four-square window and Shirei relaxed again, brows furrowed as she worked out what he wanted.

"Who was it?"

"One of the Umber men. He was asking about our comfort."

"Why?"

"He wanted to make sure we were comfortable."

"Why?"

Shirei didn't know. It didn't make any sense. So she shrugged and went back to looking out the window.

These Northerners confused her. They didn't act like any men she had met before. Being with Northerners was a whole new set of rules that she was still trying to work out. She tapped Della, getting her attention so that she could read Shirei's lips. "Maybe he's nice like your brother?"

"Maybe," Della hedged, unconvinced.

At The Twins most of the men left Della alone. Benfry, Shirei's brother and Della's father, wasn't a bad sort, and Della's brother Osmund was protective of Della and tended to nag anyone who bothered her. It was enough that most the men would rather find another girl to hurt. Usually Shirei, since she was the one that was always nearby.

Not that they had done so since Shirei had married the Young Wolf of the North.

The fact that they asked her if she wanted to do something instead of deciding for her, Shirei didn't know what to make of it. For the first time she could choose. What color she wanted her new dresses to be (she had chosen grey hoping to make her new husband happy). What she liked to eat (she told them anything was fine, although truth be told she hated gruel with a fierceness). They asked her if she liked her horse, which she did. She'd never had a horse before. She'd never had any animal.

There were so many questions for her and it was all so overwhelming. So far they had held to each preference, which she found even more strange.

They didn't stop riding until the sun began to set, just enough time for the soldiers to set up before dark. When she got out the carriage the Umber brothers had watched as she stretched, rubbing her back from the long ride, and asked why she'd hadn't called out for them to pull over.

She decided this time not to answer. Why would someone stop for her?

After they realized she wasn't going to respond they had given a visible shrug, sharing a sideways glance before leading her to her tent. A man informed her that Lady Catelyn and Robb would not be dining with her this night as they were in a war meeting. He also told her that King Robb had told her not to wait up for him, which she took to mean do wait up.

"These Northerner's are so strange," Della murmured over her glass of red wine.

"They let Lady Catelyn into war meetings." It was the most interesting piece of information she had gotten from the conversation.

"Lady Catelyn?"

Shirei hmphed, taking a bite of lamb. It tasted wonderful, with herbs and vegetables covering her plate. It was one of the best meals she'd ever eaten.

She ruminated over Lady Catelyn. She was treated like a man. Everyone respected her, no one doubted her. Shirei stabbed her fork into a glazed carrot. There was no point dwelling on it now. Shirei didn't know what it was that made them respect Lady Catelyn. It couldn't be just because she was the King's mother, or the last Lady of Winterfell. Shirei's mother had been Lady of the Twins and bore her father four sons, and she had been treated no different than the other women in the castle.

Della was shown to her own tent after dinner, and Shirei dressed for bed waiting up for her husband. Several times she nearly nodded off, but she pinched herself awake.

It was late in the night when King Robb arrived. At first, he didn't even notice she was alert, undoing his cufflinks and placing his shirt neatly on the table. "You're awake?" He did a double take. "Did my men not tell you I would be getting back late?"

Shirei rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "They did."

He paused, taking in her arms crossed against her chest. Her gaze that blinked back sleep, toes curled against her. "Did you want to tell me something?"

"No, your Grace."

"Robb," he corrected.

"Of course."

He sighed, rubbing his face. "Then why did you stay up?"

"For you."

He slipped beneath the sheets, blowing out the candle placing them in darkness. A sliver of light could be seen between the flap, lighting a thin line on the ground. The muffled sound of voices could be heard beyond the tent from nearby soldiers. "You didn't have to."

"Of course, your Grace."

"Robb. My name is Robb. Say it."

Shirei ground her teeth, unsure what he wanted from her. "Your name is Robb Stark of Winterfell. King in the North."

"Aye. Were you happy with your travel accommodations?"

"Very much, your Grace."

"Robb," he muttered, irritation and tiredness laced into his voice.

"King Robb Stark," she agreed, clutching the blanket tightly beneath her chin. "Were you wanting me tonight?"

After a full minute of silence, she thought he wouldn't answer. Then he said, "Is that why you stayed up? You thought I would want use of your body tonight?"

"I did it because I thought you wanted me to."

He twisted towards her. "But I said you didn't have to."

"It was why I thought that you did."

She could hear him taking a deep breath in. Her eyes were beginning to adjust and she could make out his form. The location of his face and the distance between them.

"If I say something, I mean it Shirei. I don't have a hidden agenda when it comes to you. What I say is what I mean."

Shirei thought this over. "What if you tell me to do something I know you don't like?"

"Why would I ever tell you to do something I don't want you to do?" he groaned.

"So that you can hurt me when I do it."

His hand reached out to her in the dark and she flinched. But instead of the harshness she was expecting his touch was tender. His palm wrapped around her chin, turning her face towards him. Now she could make out his dark curls and trim beard, the features of his eyes, nose, and lips.

"That isn't your life anymore. No one will ever touch you like that again. Not even me. I cannot promise I will never distress you, or hurt your feelings, but I do promise not to touch you in anger."

Shirei faltered. She'd heard this all before, and it only ended in pain when they betrayed her trust. But Robb seemed so different. He'd been nothing but respectful, and from what she had seen he had not lied to her.

"A man is only as good as his word," he continued.

"But I am a woman." And that had always made the difference.

"One day I'll tell you something and you'll believe me." He caressed her jaw with his thumb. "For now, I'll settle for you trusting Osric and Darrian to protect you."

"Osric and Darrian?"

"The names of your guards. Does it make you feel any better to know one of them married and the other has no motivation to touch a woman? Darrian is recently widowed. He lost both his wife and infant daughter to child birth. A woman is the last thing on his mind right now, and Osric is happily married to his wife. Loved her since they were children. Neither of them would have interest in you in that way. It is why I chose them." He paused. "So will you trust them."

"I trust them to do as you tell them."

"You are exhausting, do you know that?"

"I apologize, you Grace."

"Robb."

"Robb Stark of Winterfell."

"Yes, Robb Stark of bloody Winterfell. Also known as the Young Wolf. Oldest son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, and King in the North," he groaned.

"Yes," she echoed. "King in the North."

Just like he wanted her to.

* * *

War was much more boring than she thought it would be. It was more traveling from place to place and planning than anything. She began riding her horse who she named Dotty for the marks on her. Dotty was a sweet creature, always careful not to nip her when Shirei gave her a treat. Shirei had grown quite attached to the creature. Usually Shirei switched back and forth during the day. When she began to hurt from riding she went to the carriage. When she got sore from sitting she went to Dotty, who always seemed happy to see her. Both Osric and Darrian never seemed to mind how often she switched, so she figured it was okay to do.

"Your Grace?"

To her surprise it was her brother Olyver. He was squired to her husband, and took his job seriously for all appearances. She didn't know him very well. They hadn't really interacted with each other before this. "King Robb has asked you to join him in the war meeting this evening."

Shirei stared at him, certain she had heard wrong. Her brother fidgeted, tugging at his sleeves. "Can I confirm your attendance?" he said finally.

"If my husband wishes me to."

"So… that is yes?"

Shirei repeated her earlier statement and he grimaced, muttering something under his breath before kicking his horse into a canter.

Della looked just as confused as Shirei. She wasn't sure what Robb could possibly want. She didn't know the first thing about war, and more than that she was a woman. But if it was her husband's wish she would do it. Maybe she would learn why Lady Catelyn was in the war meetings.

After camp was set up Olyver came back to deliver her to the meeting. It was not hard to find. It was the biggest tent in the camp. Inside were the Lord's of the North bending over a table. Upon closer inspection she realized it wasn't a table but a map. Robb's direwolf Greywind sat in the corner gnawing on the leg bone of some large animal, a cow in all likeliness. The wolf paid her no mind so she made sure to do the same lest she draw its attention.

Robb straightened as soon as she arrived, adjusting his shirt. "Shirei, you've arrived. I want you to meet my bannerman." So he called on her so that he could introduce her to his men.

Shirei stood at attention, intimidated by the grisly men in the room. She was in one of her new grey dresses, with ribbons laced through the collar and sleeves. At least she felt dressed like a queen.

She took a step forward, dropping into a small curtsey. "My Lords," she murmured.

They all bowed back, waiting as Robb introduced her to each of them. She was horrible about remembering names, but she could recall a few. Greatjon was one, as he was the uncle of Osric and Darrian. A behemoth of a man, with a startling voice. When he talked he bellowed, and it was usually finished with uproarious laughter. A Bolton was there, which she remembered because of their banner of a flayed man. She couldn't remember his name but she remembered his eyes. Cold and calculating.

Dacey Mormont she could recall precisely. She was a woman, but dressed as a man. She wore armor and a sword on her waist, and it wasn't for decoration. Shirei had no doubt the woman knew how to use it.

During the meeting Shirei stood to the left of the King, Lady Catelyn to his right. Shirei didn't understand much of what was said. Her mind had been preoccupied. She couldn't stop staring at Lady Dacey. When Lady Dacey gave a suggestion they all listened. She was strong, powerful, and at ease with herself.

Shirei struggled to place Dacey in the section Shirei had labeled as woman, but Dacey just didn't fit. She wasn't timid or afraid. She didn't prize beauty, or she wouldn't have cut her hair off like a man. She was smart and respected, strong.

And it dawned on Shirei. What Lady Catelyn and Robb had been telling her all along.

That Shirei was a _Queen_ , and queens shaped their own destiny. She didn't have to be meek and afraid. She shouldn't have to mince her words and cower like a mouse to make men feel strong.

She was Queen Shirei Stark of Winterfell. She was Queen of the North and First of her Name, and the only person she would ever control her again was her husband Robb Stark, the King in the North.

* * *

Thank you TheWiseQueen for reviewing last chapter! If anyone is interested in beta'ing this story please contact me!


	3. Queen of Secrets

**Chapter 3**

* * *

His hand rested on her rib cage, just below her breast. She liked to think he was feeling her breathe, keeping in time with her, but theirs was not a love like that. Theirs wasn't even a love to begin with. Robb Stark was beginning to feel fond of her now that she wasn't so afraid and she didn't hold her tongue.

"… and Sansa and Arya. Well, they're both so different. Sansa is the perfect lady, and Arya everything but. She wrestles with the boys. She wants to learn how to sword fight and dreams of being a warrior like Nymeria Targaryen."

Shirei tugged on his curls, watching it bounce back onto his forehead. "She sounds a bit like Dacy."

Robb quieted, keeping still. "Yes, she is similar to her." He let out a chuckle, adding, "Except Arya's more stubborn."

"I would like to meet her one day. Sansa too."

"You will." He was committed to that. There was no other option for him except to bring them both home. Otherwise this war had been pointless and all these good men of the North had died in vain.

"If someone told my father they had taken two of his daughter's he would be overjoyed," she murmured.

"Aye, your father… he is not like most."

"I'm beginning to learn that."

That not all men were condescending and hurtful. Some actually cared about women and didn't view them as a burden. Shirei was happy to know if they had a daughter and she didn't make it through childbirth Robb would still give her love.

"Can I have lessons on archery?" She had heard it was a respectable hobby for women of the North, and it wouldn't hurt for her to learn how to defend herself.

"What makes you want to learn?" His eyes were curious, not reproachful.

"I don't know," she hedged, shifting to cover herself.

Robb frowned. "Shirei."

Exasperation.

"I just don't want to be useless," she said truthfully.

"You're not useless."

"Lady Catelyn does everything for me." Organized where all the tents were to go. Sent letters and corresponded to Lord's of the North. She even helped run Winterfell from afar, answering any questions that Maester Luwin sent.

"That's on both of you actually," he winced. "My mother is used to doing such things. She's been doing it for years, and when you first came, well, you weren't ready for those kinds of responsibilities."

Shirei could not deny that. "So if I asked to have more duties she would not be offended?"

"I highly doubt it." She would have to work up the courage and ask then.

She looked at her husband who was resting with his eyes closed. It was late, in the middle of the night, but it was the only time they could find to talk. "You know, I thought you were a demon when we first met," she giggled. "My brothers had convinced me that you would become a wolf at night and eat me alive."

Robb grinned, opening his eyes to stare down at her. A true smile from Robb Stark took years off him. He rarely did during these times. "I thought you were a mouse."

"But I was!"

His laugh this time was full and deep, enough to force her into giggles again. His lips found hers in the barest of kisses, running down her breast. Lower, until he reached that part of her that made her cry out every time. She always tried to hold back, worried of the guards outside the tent hearing them. Robb took it as a matter of pride. If they didn't hear her then he wasn't doing his job right.

Love making was not so bad anymore. She even found herself enjoying it.

* * *

Della's arm was laced through hers as they walked through the rows of evenly spaced tents. The men had just gotten back from battle, bloodied and drained. Some looked angry, others were laughing it off. As if they hadn't just been killing men hours before. Then there were the empty ones, who always looked a shell of their former selves. Sometimes that went away, but sometimes it didn't. No one knew what to do with the broken men who were still usable, so they stayed with that dead expression in their eyes.

Robb always looked as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He never wanted to talk about war with her. He'd rather sit in his tent all night with the Lords of the North planning the next one and pretending the last didn't happen.

"Lady Catelyn," Della greeted, dipping into a curtsy. Shirei picked out her hair in the crowd of men, following Della's lead.

"My Lady," Shirei greeted.

Lady Catelyn gave her a warm smile. Sometimes Shirei didn't know what Lady Catelyn thought of her. At times she appeared happy with her, but there were also times Shirei caught Catelyn staring at her, a disproving line across her face. Lady Catelyn was never discourteous, she was too much of a lady for that, but Shirei often wondered what their conversations would actually be like if there wasn't a need for pleasantries.

Lady Catelyn nodded respectfully at Shirei before joining them. "I hear you've taken up archery."

"Yes, My Lady. I'm afraid I'm horrid at it." She'd only had a few lessons but she hadn't managed to hit the bullseye. Once she nearly hit a passing soldier, and what made it worse was he was a good fifteen feet from the target. It was safe to say Shirei wouldn't be winning any archery contest. Her trainer told her it was because she was unused to using those muscles, so she never pulled the string correctly. Even when he fixed her stance and told her how to do it she somehow always reverted back to the position that was most comfortable for her. She didn't do it on purpose, she never realized she did it until he pointed it out to her.

"Arya loved archery. She was quite good at it," Lady Catelyn commented, a melancholy glimmer in her eyes. "If we allowed her she would have trained with the boys with a sword."

"She sounds formidable, My Lady."

"Call me Catelyn. There is no need for such formality, and yes. She was always so wild despite my prodding. Ned and I never could figure out a way to contain her." It was clear Catelyn was no longer with them, lost in her memories. Her lips puckered with a frown and she blinked. "There was a reason I searched you out. We've done a large strike this time in battle and captured Jaime Lannister."

Della gasped, staring wide eyed in disbelief. Shirei wondered how they had managed to take him alive. "So we will get Sansa and Arya back now?" Shirei pressed.

A dark looked passed Catelyn's eyes, but it disappeared just as quick as it came. "We are still deciding."

"What?" Shirei couldn't figure out what there was to decide.

"Robb and some of the others have expressed trading Sansa and Arya for the Kingslayer is not a fair trade on our side."

Della and Shirei shared a look. It was because Sansa and Arya were not men. If they had been sons there would be no problem. It seemed despite all of Robb's pretty words he still did not think that women are of equal standing. Part of her understood this, but another part of her was disappointed.

"We have tipped the war. It is in our favor," Shirei decided on. A neutral response. She did not want to argue with her husband, not even for Lady Catelyn.

Well, it's wasn't that she didn't it more that she _wouldn't_. She understood that men could no longer control her, but Robb wasn't just a man. He was her husband. If he told her something she must do it, and she didn't want to cause strife. Robb had never been mad with her. Frustrated, yes, but never mad. She didn't know how he would treat her if he became angry.

Lady Catelyn nodded, excusing herself and disappearing from sight.

"Do you think we'll ever get your good-sister's back alive," Della whispered.

Shirei shrugged. "Not unless we get some of their women, and I don't see that happening." They would all be hidden in their castles, safe and sound. "Maybe we'll be able to take King's Landing."

It sounded impossible, taking the capital of Westeros. But miracles were happening every day. There was Robb's direwolf. That had to mean something. Shirei had though direwolves extinct, but now there were at least four south of the Wall. Robb was King in the North. There hadn't been a King since Torren Stark had bent the knee to the Targaryens. A Frey, one of the lowliest families of Westeros and of worse reputation, was a Queen.

Stranger things had been done.

* * *

"Your Grace, you're aiming at the ground."

Shirei frowned, loosening the bow and turning to the man. "No, I'm not. I'm aiming at the target."

He held back a sigh, stepping forward and gesturing for her to aim again. "See? You aim slightly towards the ground. If anything you should aim slightly above it. Not that you need to at this distance."

Shirei's brows furrowed and she realized he was right. She gave a sheepish grin, taking aim again.

"The placement of your feet," he reminded her.

She looked down, realizing she was off balance and fixed her stance.

"You're not pulling the string far enough."

Sweat gleamed on her brow. She tugged on the string, making it go taunt. She struggled to hold her position, arms quaking. Della watched from the sidelines, clapping politely every time she loosened an arrow. Never mind it didn't hit her target. Della was just impressed that Shirei could work a bow at all.

"I'm rubbish at this," she grumbled, staring in dismay at the arrows embedded in the grass. The closest one was a good foot from the target.

"You didn't control your breathing," he admonished respectfully. "Not everyone can be a natural."

"If I wasn't Queen these men would be laughing at me." Shirei often caught soldiers struggling to hold back laughter, covering their mouths with their hands or turning around, shoulders quaking.

"Be as that may, it doesn't mean you should give up." He was anything if honest. Shirei could always count on him for that.

Shirei's shoulders slumped and she stared dejectedly at the target. "Tell me the truth. Do you think I'll ever be any good?"

"If you practice, your Grace."

"Are you just being positive?"

"I have hope, your Grace."

At the end of every lesson she was always tempted to give up. It was clear she'd never be that great of a marksmen, and who was she fooling thinking she could protect herself with a bow? Even if she did happen to be good at it did she really think she would tow a bow around just in case someone decided to attack her? The two Umber guards were always nearby, and she had found that the soldiers were always willing to help her. Archery would only ever be a hobby for her.

A frustrating one.

"I'm tired," she declared. Her arms ached from pulling the string over and over, and Della looked like she was getting bored. She was watching a snail crawl across a wooden crate, if that didn't tell Shirei of Della's mental state.

"Very well, your Grace." He bowed politely, taking the bow from her relieved hands. The two Umber men stood and joined her a few paces behind as usual.

"People keep asking me if King Robb has put a babe in you yet," Della murmured once out of the archery ring.

Shirei sighed. She'd just gotten her moon's blood so that was another month that had passed without her becoming pregnant. She was beginning to feel pressure about it. Just the other day Lady Catelyn had asked if they were trying for a child. She'd answered honestly. That they did whenever Robb wasn't too tired, or wasn't staying up all night in a war meeting.

Which meant not much at all.

Once a week, if the Gods were good. She couldn't blame him for being tired. He never stopped working. He was always gone when she woke up and usually came to their tent after she had fallen asleep. She didn't know how he didn't collapse from sheer exhaustion.

"Not yet," she answered. Della patted her hand in comfort and Shirei gave her a tired smile.

"It will happen," Della promised. "You just have to be patient. We all do."

Shirei always wondered if she should voice her worries about this to Robb, but decided against it. She didn't want to stress him out any more than he already was.

"They say the King was seen on the battlefield talking with a pretty healer."

Shirei shrugged. The King could to talk to whoever he wished, and not everyone was as homely as she. There would always be women more beautiful than her, and she couldn't be jealous of them all.

"I think everyone in camp wants to murder Jaime Lannister," Della said. She often jumped from subject to subject, bleating whatever people were too afraid to say in Shirei's presence.

"He crippled their King's brother. Of course they do."

"He likes to taunt people. Even as they beat him," Della informed her.

"All he's got left is his pride," Shirei commented. "If he can't control people with his sword he'll use words."

Della's brows furrowed. "But he's not controlling them. They're beating him."

"Which they never would have done without his prodding." When Della still did not understand, Shirei continued, "He knows what they want to do. At least when he makes them angry he knows when. It gives him power, knowing he controls others emotions."

One of the Umber men coughed. "How do you know about such things, your Grace?" Darrian asked.

Shirei gave him a pointed look. "I grew up in The Twins."

They both dropped the subject. Apparently that was enough of an explanation.

"The Kingslayer is a menace," Oric grumbled, going back to their prior conversation. "King Robb should just kill em'."

"There's a reason for everything he does," Shirei promised. Neither Umber man appeared happy with her answer but seemed to understand. "Perhaps I should go visit the Kingslayer."

"Are you insane?" Della hissed, yanking on her arm. "Do you know how easily he could hurt you?"

"That is how you give such men power when they have none," Shirei replied glancing at the two Umber men. Oric avoided her gaze, and Darrian kept kicking at the dirt.

"The King told us to keep you away from that area," Darrian said finally.

"He commanded it?"

"Not precisely," Oric hedged. "It was more implied."

"Then let's go."

"I don't want to," Della panicked. "If you're going I'd rather not."

"That's alright. I'll find you later."

"Your Grace." Darrian peered down at her, face tense. "Please?"

Shirei swallowed. "You would get in trouble?"

"Aye."

Shirei stared at the eastern side of the camp, knowing that was where they kept the Kingslayer. She rubbed her forehead, letting out a deep sigh. "Very well then. I'll talk to Robb about it."

All three of her party appeared relieved. It made her wonder if perhaps this was much more serious than she thought it to be.

But no, Jaime Lannister was only a man. Tied up in the mud with only words for company. Jaime Lannister did not frighten her.

* * *

"You're not going to see the Kingslayer! I forbid it!"

Shirei watched Robb warily as he paced the length of their tent. Greywind had sensed his owners discomfort earlier and sat himself in the corner, head on his paws and eyes watching Robb unblinking.

"But he is tied to the ground," she said carefully. "There are bars around him. Soldiers watch him day and night. There is no way for him to hurt me."

Robbs hands wrapped around her shoulders firmly, forcing her attention back to him instead of the greys of the carpet. "There are more ways to hurt people than just physical."

"I know that very well, your Grace."

"Oh, don't start with that again!" he groaned whipping a hand through his hair.

"Jaime Lannister can't tell me anything someone hasn't told me before," she promised.

"So why would I let you go back into that type of situation, Shirei? Knowing how much those words hurt you. Why would I ever chance that one of his words hit when I know you still avoid your own family because of the same reason."

"What?" She'd said the word out of shock, not a true question. How could he know that was why she avoided them?

He fidgeted with the stack of papers on his desk, organizing them into a near pile. She knew from experience they would go back to his scattered chaos by morning. "Your guards report to me on where you go each day. You are often at the archery range. You like taking walks on the borders of the camp. You go through each camp but the Freys. How could I not notice?"

Shirei clenched her fists. "That's different."

"How, Shirei? How?" he pleaded. "How is that any different?"

"They're my family," she whispered, stroking the softness of her sleeve, grounding herself. "Jaime Lannister is nothing to me."

"If he is nothing why do you want to see him?" he pressed.

It was a fair question, one she hadn't thought through.

He leaned down, running a hand through her hair and kissing her forehead. "Don't torture yourself. There is nothing to gain from meeting the man."

"Then why do I feel like there is?" she whispered.

"I felt the same way. I left angrier than I came."

"But I am not you." She pulled away, staring into his eyes. "I- I want to meet him because…."

Because if Jaime Lannister couldn't hurt her maybe that meant her family couldn't either. Even though she knew realistically her family couldn't touch her, it didn't stop those errant thoughts.

Resignation was in the plains of his face, on the lines of his forehead and the sigh on his lips. "Your guards will be right next to you, understand?"

"Yes."

"Do not get any closer than you need to be."

"Alright."

"If you think for one minute-"

"Alright, my love," she comforted. "I will take every measure of safety."

It was late the next day by the time she was able to visit the Kingslayer. Her guards appeared just as discomforted as her husband about her to going but they held their tongues. She had kept busy during the day, attempting her archery and then taking Dotty out for a ride. The army had been stagnant for nearly a week as her husband and his bannermen decided what to do next, and her mare was getting restless.

The soldiers bowed as they let her in, giving her a warning of keeping her distance. Osric and Darrian stood closer to her than usual. So close that if she took a step back she would bump into them.

Jaime Lannister wasn't what she was expecting.

She thought that even in chains he would look glamorous. He was well known for not only his sword work but his looks. Golden hair that women wished for their own along with handsome looks. But this man was defeated. It seemed as if the only thing keeping him upright was bars he was tied to. There was mud splattered all over his person, mixed with blood, grit, and from what she could make out bits of gruel.

As soon as he noticed her his demeanor went over a complete change. His back straightened, a condescending smirk filled his face. He tossed his hair out of his face as if it wasn't ratted and he didn't smell of dog, feces, and gods knew what else.

"Who do I have the pleasure in greeting?" He said with an air of carelessness. As if the answer didn't matter, when he had unintentionally revealed that it did. Jaime Lannister was a person who covered weakness very well. If she hadn't seen him before she never would have guessed any of this was affecting him. He looked over her dress, grey again, but with accents of blue the seamstress had added to pay homage to her house. He looked at the two guards standing firm behind her, large men compared to anyone, and the Kingslayer gave a predatory grin.

"The new Lady of Winterfell, or should I say queen? I guess it depends on who you ask, doesn't it?" he said sheepish, yet the cunning in his eyes told her it was a barb.

Shirei remained silent, expressionless. This man was the killer of kings, a master of swords, the bringer of death. He had murdered and lied his way through life, and he felt powerful for it. Something resonated in her with the realization, and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

"Your good-mother Catelyn visited me the other day. I must say her visit was... _titillating_." The lightest purse of his lips. So it bothered him that she did not engage him. "I must say the way the soldiers spoke I was expecting Robb Stark's wife to be an old crone with warts and a full beard."

There it was, his lashing out. Osric and Darrian shifted. She could feel them move slightly towards her, as if ready to spirit her away at the slightest movement.

"Did it feel good?" she asked suddenly.

Jamie Lannister scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Did what feel good?"

She took a step forward, caressing the bars. "Did it feel good to push him out the window?"

He hesitated, searching her out. Looking for her angle, but Shirei had made sure to keep her face carefully blank.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," he said finally. "But you have a wonderful imagination."

"Did you feel the warmth of his skin when you touched him, the beat of his heart against your hand?" Her hand touched her own, feeling the steady rhythm that marked her as living. "What made you decide he was worth more than you?"

There was no blame in her voice, barely any infliction at all. The Kingslayer stared at her so long she almost thought he wouldn't answer. His shoulders began to slump, his head drooping until only his chin could be seen behind the muck in his hair. "He wasn't worth more than me," he said finally.

Shirei's brow rose. His careless manner had dissipated and now he only looked tired, and old.

"What is it you want?" he asked again, trying to regain his former splendor. Son of Tywin Lannister, one of the richest and most powerful men in the realm. Queen to Cercei Baratheon and a white cloak, a knight of the realm. He did have many coveted titles.

Shirei took a step back, the warmth of Osric and Darrian against her. Grounding her, pulling her back together from that strange part of her that she had never explored before.

She gave a visible shrug, turning to leave. "I suppose you'll never know."

* * *

A/N: The third chapters up! Thanks to everyone who's giving this attention. :)


	4. Queen of Fate

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Rumors were rampant surrounding her husband.

At first, she ignored them. Rumors always said crazy things, and if they were all true then Robb would be a bloody wolf and Shirei a 73 year old crone. But she began to worry as each one began to line up. That her husband often sought out the attention of a foreign healer when he never looked for his wife. That the girl was beautiful and of noble blood, from a foreign land.

The only person that would tell her these things was Della. No one else dared say them in front of her. Della was deaf, and no one expected a deaf girl to be able to understand and follow a conversation. Della told her everything people said about the Starks and the Freys.

Shirei had been too afraid to ask Robb about this foreign healer, but it was more than that. She was protecting herself. She cared about Robb, hoped that one day they would fall in love. They got along well, and there was no longer that awkwardness with each other. If given time they could have a good marriage, like Lady Catelyn did with the late Lord Stark. Shirei wasn't beautiful. She would never mystify men, or pull them in with a sultry glance. Her beauty would never be something that men would sing or start wars about. But she knew of women who were beautiful.

Cersei Lannister. She had once loved Robert Baratheon, but his continued adultery and loving of a dead girl made the woman bitter and cruel. Even Lady Catelyn, a women Shirei held in high regard, had let her husband's misconduct change her. Lady Catelyn hated her husband's bastard. She didn't let it ruin her marriage, but she had been cruel to him his whole life. Then there was Lyanna Stark, the woman that started it all. She was known for as a winter rose, but all her beauty brought was war and an early death. The gods did not seem to favor beauty one way or another, and their lives appeared no easier than someone of less comeliness.

What would Shirei do if Robb decided to take on a mistress? More beautiful and kind than her, with soft curves and dainty features. The kind that men liked. A woman she could never win over. The lives of the beautiful were not any easier but that did not mean they wouldn't give Shirei hardships.

She didn't want hatred to twist her, but the thought of it was already doing so. She wanted to be a bigger person. She had hoped that the power of being Queen in the North would keep her happy. That the children they would have together would make her content.

But she wasn't certain it would.

This time she stayed up for Robb. She had to ask him, to prepare herself if the rumors held truth. She didn't want it thrown in her face and to be made into a spectacle if it reached a peak. She didn't want to cry. At least not in front of people.

Robb came late as always. "You're still awake?"

He did his daily night routine. First the shirt, folded and placed on his dresser. Then he washed his face and changed into the rest of his night clothes before joining her.

"You haven't lain with me in more than a fortnight," she commented.

"It's been that long?"

"Yes, you need an heir." She barely managed to hold of the 'your Grace.' When she got nervous she always went to formalities.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes it's hard to think about such things during war." He kissed her forehead. "We'll have plenty of time to focus on that after."

Now she felt guilty. Robb always struggled fighting this war. It was draining for him, yet Shirei was here bothering him about things only women need to worry about.

But she had to know.

"I heard there is a foreign healer."

She felt him tense against her. "Yes, I've seen one."

"I hear she's beautiful."

He was quiet. "Why does that matter?"

She sat up. "For the same reason you need to ask that."

Robb rubbed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "What is it you've heard?"

"That you're in love with her."

He took a startled breath in. She couldn't tell if he was shocked or surprised, and it seemed to make all the difference to her at that moment.

"Shirei, you're my wife. You have nothing to worry about."

"All men say that, and then you come back with bastards and empty promises to be better next time. Or worse, you hurt us and tell us to be grateful for it."

"I promised that I would never hurt you."

"No," she denied, feeling anger at him for the first time. "You promised never to put a hand on me. There's a difference."

"Shirei," he groaned. "I've never touched her. I won't touch her. I promise, alright?"

His eyes bore into hers. Tired. Pleading. Hopeful, and she knew no matter what he said she wouldn't trust him. She didn't know if this was something within her she had to work out, or if this was her inner tuition and there was truly something to worry about.

Only the future would tell.

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching as she dressed into more proper attire.

"Go to bed Robb. You're tired," she murmured, finishing up her last button.

"You're angry with me."

"I don't know who I'm angry with. Just go to sleep. We can talk about this another time." She needed to cool off before she did something stupid like yelled at him. Or worse, started crying.

She blew out the candle, whispering a goodnight to Robb before opening the flap of the tent. "Your Grace," the soldiers bowed, avoiding eye contact.

She held back a groan of frustration. The guards had heard everything. Just what she needed spreading around the camp with all theses rumors about that _beautiful healer_ spread about.

"You should have an escort," one of them commented. She brushed him to the side.

"I'll be fine. If I need someone I will call." They didn't appear to comforted by her words but allowed her to leave.

She took a deep breath in of fresh night air, looking up at the half full moon and twinkling stars. She meandered between the rows of tents, clutching her cloak tightly. She shouldn't let this stuff bother her. Even if Robb did cheat she should be happy. Robb was always kind to her. He never hurt her. It was more than Shirei had ever expected of a husband. If her husband was telling the truth, clutching to these rumors would only push him away. She had to put her insecurities aside and place her trust him. Robb had never lied to her before.

 _Except tonight_ , a voice in her head whispered.

He had avoided eye contact when Shirei had brought up the woman, rubbing the back of his neck and giving her those empty promises. It didn't mean that he had cheated. It could just be that he wasn't telling the _whole_ truth, such as him having interest in her.

And now Shirei was fixating. She had to stop this.

"Would you look at that."

Shirei froze, recognizing the voice instantly. It was Hosteen, one of her older brothers. The one that liked to pinch and mock and torment.

He smirked at her, walking closer. "So maybe you do remember you're a Frey. What, you think you're better than all of us now? Too good to see your family?"

His breath was rancid, the smell of grease, rotten meat, and stale ale hitting her in the face. She held back a flinch, hiding her fists in the loose folds of her dress.

"Of course not."

He reached down, tugging lightly on a tendril of her wheat colored hair before making a meaty fists around it. "You love your family, don't you?"

"Freys don't love."

Surprise dotted his features, and then he let out an uproarious laugh. "Has the kitten turned into a cat while I've been gone?" His grip on her hair tightened and she let out a pitiful whine as he yanked her forward. She held her breath as he brought his face closer to hers. "No matter. Cats are only dog feed for the other animals."

Something in her awakened, that part of her that was hidden and had been oppressed her entire live. Shirei's eyes met his and her spine straightened. She pushed her hands against his chest harshly, losing strands of hair as she as strained against Hosteen's chest. He let go of the rest of her hair in shock, looking as if he didn't know the girl he looked at anymore.

And he didn't. Shirei wasn't that little girl anymore. She wasn't afraid.

"I am Shirei Stark," she hissed vehemently, glaring at him and shaking the wrinkles out of her clothes with rough motions. "I am Queen in the North, and first of my name, and you will _never_ hurt me again."

She watched him, taking in the disbelief on his features. How he would grin one moment as if this were a bad joke and then frown the next. Then the understanding, the look in his eyes as he realized she was serious.

He bit back whatever reply he had in his mouth and bowed reluctantly. "My Queen."

She watched as he walked away, only turning around herself once he was out of sight. As soon as he left was she let out a gasp, clutching her hands together to steady the shaking. She walked away swiftly, tears streaming down her cheeks as her cheeks puffed out air into the bitter cold.

Her name was Shirei Stark, and she had proven herself.

* * *

Shirei stared down the arrow, a goose feather tickling her shoulder. She took a steady breath in, closing her eyes, before exhaling and letting the arrow loose.

It hit the bottom of the board. Nowhere near the bullseye but closer than before. Shirei grinned, turning to her trainer.

"You're starting to hit the board more often," he commented, hiding a poorly concealed smile.

"One day I'll hit the center," she promised. Even if it took her whole lifetime. She wanted to be good at something. Right now all she could say that about was sewing.

"I believe you will, your Grace."

Soldiers had taken to watching her training. At first it was for the spectacle she made, but now they seemed intrigued to see if she'd actually ever improve enough to hit the target. Many of them clapped for her when she hit the board, but her trainer had told them to stop once he noticed it distracted her.

She let loose a few more arrows before giving up for the day. Her last one had bounced off the board, much to her chagrin and the amusement of others. Della took her arm as soon as they stepped out the training area.

"What do they say about me today?" Shirei asked her.

"They talk about your visit to Jaime Lannister and what it means."

Shirei frowned, thinking this tidbit over. "What do they think I said?"

"They say you tried to get him to confess to his crimes."

Shirei snorted. There were too many to count. "Which ones?"

"The answer varies on that depending on who you ask, but most agree to Bran as he is your good-brother."

There had been talks as of late of sending her back to Winterfell, Lady Catelyn going with her until she acclimated to running a keep and then her good-mother would return to her son. But everyone had decided against it. At least until she was pregnant with an heir.

Which meant more pressure on her.

Robb had gone back to taking her to bed after their conversation. Rumors still circulated about him visiting the healer, but that was out of Shirei's control. She tried not to worry about it. Doing so would only cause strife in her marriage.

Lady Catelyn nodded to Shirei, a pleasant expression on her face. "Your Grace, do you have time to speak with me?"

All Shirei had was time. "Yes, call me Shirei please. We're family."

It was evident that she wished to speak alone to Shirei, so Della did a curtsey and left. "Give us some space as we walk, if you will," Lady Catelyn commanded to the two Umbers. They nodded respectfully, following two paces behind as Lady Catelyn led her to the edge of the camp.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"It is," Shirei agreed. The sun was out, not a cloud in sight. There was a nice breeze in the air. She waited for the pleasantries to get out of the way. Catelyn rarely seeked her out for a meaningless conversation.

"Your health is good?"

"Yes, the maester said I was in perfect health."

Lady Catelyn paused, holding onto Shirei loosely at the elbow. A worried expression flitted across her face and she sighed. "I will be honest with you. I am worried."

Shirei shifted, bitting down on her lower lip. "I promise I am healthy, My Lady. It isn't-"

"It's not that," she interceded. "I'm not worried about your health or ability to create an heir. It's Robb. He isn't doing his duty."

Comprehension dawned on her and she flushed. She was talking about their love life, or lack of one. "We do try," she said finally.

"But not very often," Catelyn finished. Catelyn ran the back of her hand across Shirei's cheek, a mother's touch. "Robb is going through some stage right now. I'm sure of it. That woman… I've told her to keep away. I've told Robb the same, but boys don't always listen to their mother's."

Shirei clutched at her chest, realizing her fears had been real. It wasn't in her mind, and knowing that felt so much worse.

"War does strange things to men. My own Ned, well, I'm sure you know what happened with him."

Jon Snow.

"But we had a good marriage," she said strongly. "We were both happy. You can be too." Catelyn ran her fingers through Shirei's hair. "You must be more aggressive with him. He's not the type to listen when you try to hint or nudge him in the right direction. If you don't, well, I'm afraid we'll be having bastards filling up the camp."

Shirei blinked back tears. "It will be okay," she said in a small voice. "He's a good man, just…" Shirei wasn't enough to keep his attention. She had never been what he wanted to begin with. He took her only because he had no choice. This woman, the healer, she was Robb Stark's choice. Who he would have chosen if a bridge hadn't been needed for the war.

"You need heirs from him, and you need them first."

Shirei looked up, pulled from her thoughts. "Even if the other girl becomes pregnant first they would be bastards."

"And Robb is King."

She flinched, understanding what Catelyn was hinting at. He could legitimize them and make her own children second, third, and fourth to the line.

Was he already sleeping with the woman? Had he been sowing bastards in this other woman instead of visiting her? She didn't like how this made her feel. Powerless again. As if she were back in The Twins and no matter what she did others had control of her life.

"He loves her?"

"Does it matter?"

Yes.

"I suppose it doesn't."

Shirei turned away, hurrying back into camp. It didn't matter what she did. Robb Stark was King and there was nothing she could do to stop him. She didn't think she loved him, but her chest felt so heavy. She didn't realize where she was heading until she ended up in a field among rows of the wounded. It wasn't hard to figure out which one she was. Even covered in blood and hair wild she was beautiful. Robb was standing next to her, talking. It was funny how he made time to speak to that woman but never Shirei.

"Your Highness?" Oric said behind her, anxious. "Perhaps we could go back?"

She stared at Robb. The familiarity of his touch when he reached for her arm. How happy she looked when she smiled at him. Shirei realized Robb Stark had never looked at her like that.

He probably never would.

A soldier went up to Robb, whispering in his ear. He jerked back, brows raised and mouth slightly open, and pulled away from the girl. His eyes searched the field until they landed on Shirei. Neither of them moved, an understanding.

Shirei swallowed thickly. "Yes, we should go back."

* * *

Robb didn't come to their tent that night, and to be honest Shirei was happy for it. She needed space, to figure out what she wanted to do from here.

She concentrated on archery. The other day she finally hit the edge of the target. She had flung the bow in excitement, and all the soldiers watching had applauded for her and commended her for sticking to it. Shooting that target made everything feel okay. It made her feel good.

It made her realize she did not need to depend on Robb Stark for happiness.

Besides, why did it matter who sat on the thrown? From what she had seen being King wasn't as great as everyone made it out to be. Let his bastards own the thrown. Her own children could be carefree second and third born's. Her father would probably have something to say about that, but Shirei didn't care.

At least that's what she told herself.

The truth was Robb Stark had allowed her to hope for the first time in her life. He had shown her all the possibilities, what she co _uld_ have, and then he had ripped it away and that somehow hurt worse than if she had never known it.

Archery was a distraction. Della and Dotty was a distraction, but they didn't make everything better. Robb was still gone, probably sleeping with that woman each night. She felt so alone. Even with Osric and Darrian following her, and Della keeping her company. Lady Stark's kind and understanding gaze.

Somehow when the maester told her she was pregnant it made her feel worse. She made him promise not to tell anyone and dismissed him. This was what everyone was wanting of her, and she still didn't feel any better.

She stayed up all night, planning and thinking. She didn't want to become Cersei Lannister, bitter and cruel. She didn't want to hate the bastards her husband would have, taking it out on faultless children.

It wasn't until dawn that she finished her letter. She placed it in Della's tent, in her linen cloth that held all Della's worldly belongings, and left. She told the guards she wasn't feel well and slept through the day, waking up as the sun was setting beyond the willows.

She packed a bag with hard biscuits and salted meats. Her old doll and gold Robb left scattered around the room. She took a jeweled dagger and a map, grabbed a floor length cloak and tore a hole in the back of the tent to avoid the guards.

The soldiers were drunk after their last battle. They paid her no mind. She patted the stable boy on the head, smiling at him and bringing a finger to her lips to keep him quiet. He helped her saddle Dotty, who lipped at her for a sugar cube. She filled her pockets with them, placing the sack beneath her cloak and prodding Dotty into a trot.

"Who are ye?" the soldier's asked as she reached the edge of the camp. She pulled her hood back, expression firm.

"I am Queen in the North, and you will let me pass through."

And they did.


End file.
